Crash and Burn
by Icee67
Summary: England has hit a low in his life, unbelievable even to himself. While he is on the brink of suicide, an unlikely person jumps to his rescue without hesitation, giving him a good calling as to why he needs to step back up and keep going. Warnings: Suicide attempt and slight FrUK


**A/N: This is what happens when I listen to the song Crash and Burn by Savage Gardens when I am bored. A little sweet, touching FrUK fic! Enjoys~!**

**I do not own Hetalia! Which is probably safe for everyone, mwahaha.**

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Arthur stood at the edge of the river bank, staring into the water as it moved rapidly past him, down to some bigger ocean with more potential than it seemed to have here. Or so Arthur thought, anyway. A small sigh escaped his lips and he looked further down, staring at the sandy ground, at the small overlap where the land rose just above the raging waters. All he needed to do was just take one small step…then he would be in those currents…being swept away to somewhere better than here.

One foot began sliding forwards, the toe of his shoe going over the edge slowly. As he kept sliding, his whole foot soon found itself suspended in the air, so close to the waters. Now all he needed to do was lean his body forwards into that step and he would be gone. It's not as though anyone would miss him. Arthur drew in a deep breath, wondering if anyone even knew he was gone, if they would ever care, or regret not being there to save him.

It was those thoughts that pushed him forwards, towards the waters that he knew he could not swim in. All the better, though, he knew. As long as he could not swim, he had no hope of fighting his way to the top again once he was below the surface. Who would miss him anyway?

Arthur leaned forwards completely, letting himself fall right into the water over the edge. But in the midst of the fall, he was unaware of the scream right behind him.

"ARTHUR! NO!" Footsteps were sprinting towards the edge and a body propelled itself right off of the ledge after him without an ounce of hesitation.

As Arthur hit the water, he immediately went under, the water cold and strong. It kept him there, resistant to his fighting and flailing. Arthur opened his eyes, barely seeing anything in the water, but feeling himself being thrown this way and that by the current. He could hear nothing except the roaring of the river, an almost deafening sound as the water clogged his ears.

Deciding it was futile to keep holding his breath, Arthur let his jaw fall slack and water began to flood in. Just as he was about to let himself go completely, though, arms were winding themselves around his waist and Arthur felt himself being raised above the water. The air was cool against his wet face as he was lifted above the surface by the mystery savior. He hacked, water spewing out of his mouth and lungs, spitting more out as he was forced to the bank by this mystery man.

Arthur was thrown down on the bank, landing on his hands and knees as he coughed and choked, his arms tiring quickly. His savior came down beside him, also coughing, though his were not as harsh.

"Arthur…are…you…_stupid_…?!" The man asked and Arthur froze instantly, knowing that voice better than he knew any voice. He slowly turned his head to see the familiar face.

"F-…Francis…?" The name left his lips in disbelief. Francis was there beside him, on his hands and knees, long blond hair plastered around his face and neck, clothes soaking and ruined. "Why…?"

Francis panted a bit before looking up at him. "Why what?"

"Why did you…jump in after me?"

"Because you were going to kill yourself, you _crétin_!" Francis all but shrieked, jerking himself up so he was perched on his knees. "If you think I am going to stand by and let you do it, then you're crazy!"

Arthur slowly moved around so he was sitting crossed-legged, facing the French nation. "You hate me…"

"_Non…_I do not…" Francis looked down for a moment then back up at his Arthur, his blue eyes fiery. "But this is ridiculous! Arthur, you are the United Kingdom…you are a proud, powerful nation. You have always been full of pride and so much self confidence. Of course, you are not as egocentric as Gilbert, but you sure know that you are great, and you always have been." Now Francis leaned forwards, his voice dropping a little. "So now, you tell me this, Arthur Kirkland. What has driven you to go to such lengths, that you want to drown yourself?"

There was a tense silence, Arthur chewing on his lip while Francis stared him down with narrowed eyes. Finally, Arthur muttered very quietly, "I am alone…"

Francis just barely heard this, his eyes widening a little bit. "Alone…? You think that you are alone…?"

When the British nation nodded, Francis let his face fall completely and scooted forwards, grabbing Arthur and pulling him into his arms. "Arthur…You are not alone… You have never been alone." He was whispering softly in his ear.

"What are you talking about, you frog?" Arthur demanded as he pushed a little on Francis's chest. "You don't like me…at all. You never have."

Francis pulled away enough to see Arthur's flushed face. "Arthur, I do like you. If I didn't, I wouldn't have leapt into the river to save your _stupide_ ass. This outfit is very vintage…ruined now…but I can handle that. What I would not be able to handle, is living with the knowledge that I watched you kill yourself and did nothing to stop you."

"I feel like such a moron right now…" Arthur admitted, wiping a hand under his nose and sniffing a little.

Francis chuckled a bit, eyes a bit red rimmed and wet not from the river water. "I am sure. Arthur, everyone hits a low. I have before, and even people like Gilbert and Feliciano hit lows. It's just a part of life, especially the life we nations have to live. And perhaps this time, you have really crashed and burned, Arthur…but you can get back up and change it. Because you are the United Kingdom and you have that kind of fiery attitude." Francis smiled at him. "And I love that about you."

All Arthur could do was stare at his frienemy, unable to believe what he was hearing. The French nation, the one he fought with the most for all of his life, was the one who came and saved him at his worst. Arthur was in shock; shock that he had actually almost let himself die, and shock that he was saved by this specific Frenchman.

"So, what do you say, Arthur?" Francis asked him, rubbing his upper arm softly. "Will you let me help you?"

Arthur looked up into those soft blue eyes, feeling the hand on his arm and the warmth of Francis's body. He nodded. "Yes…I will."

Francis enveloped Arthur in his arms again and planted a soft kiss on his cheek, feeling even more relieved when Arthur's own arms wound their way, shakily, around Francis's middle. "Thank you Francis."

"Anything for you, _cher_. Just remember, though, that you are never alone. I promise."

**A/N: I won't be that person begging for reviews, but I do want to say that I hope you all liked it :)**


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